The Ghost King(s)
by Storm Notorious
Summary: "Only a few months ago, he was at camp. And then the underworld, and then on an island off the coast of Italy, and now he was stuck in the Labyrinth. Life was full of surprises, Quinn thought." Second book in my Quinn series.
1. Death & Mead

**Okay, I know I promised it for the 1st. I lied. Have fun.**

* * *

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I've done this before."

Quinn sighed. "Alright. I'm just saying, my way wouldn't need all this flair."

Nico glared at him. "Just do your job." He turned back to the grave. Which Quinn thought was stupid, considering where they were.

He sighed. How did he let an eleven year-old give him orders? Though it wasn't really like he had a choice.

Quinn stared up at the black ceiling. They were in the underworld. Here, Nico was basically a celebrity. He could sail across the River Styx all he wanted without a coin, he could waltz past Cerberus without even a hint of a growl, hell, he could even walk straight into Hades' palace.

Which he did, several times. Quinn had no idea what they talked about. He was never invited. His goodwill ran out the second spring came around. Hecate's son only held weight when Persephone resided in the underworld, apparently.

And that's why he was here on the banks of the River Styx, "guarding" Nico while he was trying to summon the soul of his dead sister.

Quinn was worried. Nico's obsession was changing him. Only a few months ago he was an energetic kid who'd happily babble on all day about how the Nymph cards in Mythomagic were really underrated. Now he was quiet, sullen, only speaking up to lash out at those around him. Maybe it was the underworld. It couldn't have been healthy to spend too much time here. Nico looked like a ghost.

Though speaking of ghosts...

He was at Nico's side, as always. When he met Quinn's eyes, the king gave him a smug smile.

King Minos, of Crete. A son of Zeus, as he liked to brag. Once a judge for incoming souls, now eternally at Nico's side. Quinn wasn't sure of the arrangements, but he'd bet his scythe that Hades had something to do with it.

But he had a job to do, with the mentioned scythe.

Quinn swung it at the spirits gathering, scattering them. They always showed up when the ritual started, trying to snatch away the offerings. Fortunately they were easily scared off.

Whatever Quinn's scythe was made out of, it absolutely terrified the spirits, even more than Nico's sword. Just the sight of it was enough to keep most of them away.

He could hear Nico's chanting. They had done this exactly eighty-nine times, and every time it failed. For whatever reason, Bianca di Angelo did'nt or couldn't talk to her little brother.

Not that he would listen to reason. And it was best not to piss off the son of Hades.

The ritual failed. As always. A lot of things stayed the same in the underworld.

Quinn walked over, glancing down at the offering. "Some sort of pasta dish?"

Nico nodded. "Bianca's favourite. I though she might like this more..i think it almost worked this time."

"Nico. At a certain point you're going to have to accept-"

Minos coughed loudly. He was just a ghost, so he was just doing that from dramatic effect. It made Quinn hate him even more. "I _hardly_ think you're qualified to judge such matters. You may have a scythe forged out of the Aether, but its a glorified farming tool-"

Quinn snapped his fingers and the ghost king disappeared. As he had found out in the past few months, Hecate was the goddess of ghosts and necromancy, as well as magic. Minos really should've learned when to shut up around him.

That last little bit was curious, though. Aether? If he had his primordials right (and he always did), that was the embodiment of the upper air of the heavens and light. He could see how it'd scare off the dead. Another thing to ask Hecate about. If he ever met her.

"As I was saying. Nico, maybe she chose to be reborn. You can't summon a soul that's had her memories wiped, right?" Even before he had finished, Nico was already shaking his head.

"No. No, she wouldn't do that. I just need to do it the _right_ way..." He went flipping through the pages of the book again. Quinn could see Minos' form slowly reforming. He wasn't going to be able to convince Nico with that devil on his shoulder.

"Whatever." Quinn walked off, swing his scythe through one of the spirits that had been edging closer through the conversation. It exploded with a screech that seemed to hang in the air.

It was the underworld, he was sure of it. Nobody talked about negative affects of the place. Most heroes were in there for only a few hours or so, not wandering around aimlessly for months.

Quinn should've left a long time ago. What was keeping him here? Some promise he had made to Bianca? This place was going to end up killing him.

He had wandered over to the river, and it was seeping away at his shoes. Quinn jumped back. His scythe ma have been indestructible (Cerberus got tooth chips chewing on the wooden handle), but he wasn't.

The River Styx. An acidic river separating the dead and the living, littered with the possessions of the former. Quinn crouched down, watching the diplomas and wedding rings and little baby shoes float on by. He wondered...

"They all come to me in the end, you know."

Quinn almost fell face first into the river.

There was a girl casually resting in the Styx, as if it wasn't _literally_ made out of acid and broken dreams. She was resting her head on hand by the riverbank, curiously watching Quinn.

She had dark black hair, a dark black dress, even dark black eyeliner. She sort of looked like Death of the Endless from _The Sandman_ , only with waist-long hair that blended into the river. It was hard to tell where her hair ended, and where the Styx began.

The Styx...

He took a look at the river. "Styx, I'm guessing."

The river spirit smiled. "In the flesh. In more ways than one."

Quinn glanced back at the summoning. They didn't seem to be missing him. Minos and Nico were arguing about something, but that was hardly new.

Styx dissolved into the water. At the same time a wave splashed onto the banks next to him, with her reappearing there in a sitting position.

"Huh. Cool trick."

"Thank you." Styx leaned back on her palms. She remained silent, just gazing at the spirits wandering around the other shore. Those who couldn't afford safe passage, because most of the world thought the underworld was a myth.

As the minutes crawled by, Quinn just sat there. He figured it was some sort of test. Gods were big on that. Or was she just a nymph? The myths were never really clear on that.

Styx glanced at him, faintly smiling. Either she could read his mind, or she just found it funny to make him wait.

"Have you ever heard of Aetius? He was a king of some city-state in Greece. Megara, I believe."

Megara? Didn't ring a bell. The myths always focused on Sparta and Athens. They were basically the Los Angeles' of three millennia ago. "Never heard of him. Was he a demigod or something? Son of Zeus?"

She laughed. Coincidentally, the ferry crossing at the same time seemed to be rocking violently. Not that he really cared. Charon always badgered him over the coin. That usually ended when Quinn threatened to kick him into the Styx.

"Surprisingly not. He was entirely mortal. Perhaps that was why he was so afraid." Styx gestured behind them, at the landscape in the distance pitted with stunted little trees. "He was one of the only mortals I ever knew to escape from the Fields of Asphodel."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. That was actually fairly impressive. Percy, Grover, and Annabeth needed help to do that, Orpheus had his music, and Hercules..well, he was Hercules. "What happened to him?

"Oh, this was last week. He had quite the shock when he returned to Greece. Aetius realized there was nothing left for him in the world above, and so he returned to the underworld."

He waited. Styx said nothing more.

Quinn looked back at Nico, stubbornly trying the ritual for the millionth time, and something clicked for him.

He turned back to her. "Is this supposed to be a metaphor for me or something?"

"Why would it? Aetius was worlds apart from you. He was a ghost, just a shade of the living who the living had forgotten. He belonged here," Styx seemed to verbally shrug. She sounded totally innocent and not at all at the same time.

"It's not _that_ simple, you know. Respectfully." he added as an afterthought. She was still one of the more powerful beings down here, god or nymph. "Kinda made a promise to his olde sister Bianca that I'd keep an eye on him."

"So what you're saying is that's the only thing keeping you here. No curses, no quests, not even something sworn on Me."

"How would you know?" Right, she literally _was_ the Styx. It felt a bit strange to connect the river to the cute goth girl sitting beside him. Quinn looked away. "Of course. Yeah, it's kinda stupid when you think about it."

Styx tilted her head. "Actually, I thought it was rather admirable."

Quinn frowned. "Really? "

"Of course. Not many know this, but I am keenly aware of all the oaths sworn by Me. I know who swore them, what they swore and what happens if they do break it. You'd be surprised how few go unbroken. Zeus alone..." She looked towards the stony ceiling, as if she could could see straight to Olympus. "Well suffice to say, some don't hold it in very high regard."

But _you_ , on the other hand," Styx said as she faced back towards him, "Have absolutely kept your word, even following it pat the gates of Erebos. And you did not even swear it on my river. You've displayed honour beyond most gods. Which is why I thought you deserved a reward."

She reached her hand into the river, plucking out what looked like a piece of paper. The moment it was lifted out of the waters, it instantly looked brand new. "Here you go."

It wasnt a piece of paper, like he thought it. It looked like the back of a photo, actually. Quinn frowned, flipping it around-

No. He felt like the air had been sucked out his lungs.

It was a photo of him and Alex. As new as the day it was taken.

Quinn remembered it perfectly. They had stopped by some stupid theatre that had _The Phantom of the Opera_ , so obviously Alex insisted on seeing it. His stupid ace was laughing, an arm around Quinn as he was trying to get him to smile and failing miserably.

Looking back on it now, it was one of the few good days he could remember. No monsters, no police. Just Alex.

"He went peacefully, if that brings you any comfort. Alexander seemed very fond of you. Only their most cherished possessions end up in my waters." Styx ssaid.

"Right. And it ended up killing him. If he never met me, he'd still be alive." Quinn wanted to throw the photo back in the river. But that would only piss off the goddess.

Styx frowned. "Well I- oh. You dont know?"

Quinn snapped to attention. "Know what?"

She paused, as if she wasn't sure if she should tell him. Styx looked back towards her river, watching Charon paddling back to the far shores. "Never mind. Ask your mother."

"But- Styx glanced at him .It was only a moment, but it reminded him that she was a goddess, not a therapist. "Alright. Sorry. I don't suppose you know where he ended up?"

"Once they cross my waters, they are of no concern to me. Most end up in the Fields." Styx rose to her feet, dusting off her dress. "Perhaps you should ask your friend Nico."

Right, ask the demigod from the 1940s about finding his dead boyfriend. That would go _perfectly_. Still, he kept his mouth shut on it. "Alright. Thanks for everything, I guess."

"Oh don't thank me yet. I may not be able to see your particular strand of fate, but things are moving quickly in the world above. It might be safer for you to just stay here permanently." Styx waded into the river, totally unconcerned about the acid. "Until we meet again. Try to make it an interesting life, would you?"

And before Quinn could say another word, the goddess dissolved back into the water.

"Huh." What did Styx say, something about not being able to tell what his fate was? Gods tended to be cryptic, but Styx seemed surprisingly honest during their conversation. Which only made everything all the more confusing. Or maybe it didn't.

Whatever. Quinn walked back over to Nico, who seemed to be trying the ritual again. Nobody could say he lacked determination.

"Again, seriously?" Same pasta dish as before, interestingly enough. "Don't think you might want to take a break? When's the last time you ate something?"

Nico had a confused scowl on his face. Though really he was always scowling, so it was basically him looking a bit confused. "What? I just started. You just dismissed Minos a second ago."

"Which hurt, by the way," the ghost king added in.

"Oh, shut up already." But wait, it was only a few seconds? Quinn never had the best track of time, but he was pretty sure it had been longer than that.

Or maybe it was Styx. It was the underworld, after all. Like most things in the land of the dead, time was weird. Quinn liked to compare it to being stuck in the longest class of all time, with no clock or window to see how many minutes were left.

Nico had stopped paying attention, concentrating on the ritual. He could tell by all the ghosts swarming around. Quinn planted his scythe in the ground, keeping away the ghosts with its brightness. Their numbers grew as time passed by, but not one of them dared to go near the scythe.

Quinn could tell when it was finished. He could see almost taste the magic bubbling around the grave. And in a place like the underworld, it was in short supply.

The underworld was actually surprisingly bare of magic. Ghosts weren't actually magic, they were natural. One of the most natural things around. And nobody needed the mist to hide things when everyone was dead. It was almost poetic. Alex would've loved it.

He crossed his arms. "Let me guess. It didn't work."

Nico just walked away. He did that a lot. The little ghost king would throw a tantrum, kick around some spectres, and maybe get a breath of fresh air in the overworld. Then the whole cycle would repeat again.

Quinn and Minos were just left staring at each other. Minos opened his mouth, probably to say a smug comment.

"You know, this-"

He raised his hand again, fingers ready to snap. "Go."

The king wisely did. Quinn was bluffing, of course. It was just a flashy trick that costed a lot more power than it looked. And he had a more limited supply than most. Magic didn't really mix well with other godly bloodlines, according to Minos. Except for Helios. He was related to any witch that did anything.

Quinn sighed. He'd have to go after Nico again, if he wanted to survive. Then they would try the ritual again. And then they'd repeat the same stupid cycle over and over and over.

How long was it going to take?

* * *

Not very long, he thought looking back.

Only a little bit after that, they were fighting. Again. Maybe it was his conversation with Styx, maybe Quinn was just sick of the underworld. Whatever it was, it got ugly. And then he was very politely told that he was no longer welcome in the underworld.

Not like he could argue with Nico. Down there, the little ghost king made the rules.

Which was why Quinn was here, training. Or that's what she said she was doing for him. Really, she was just kicking his ass all over the room.

Like now. In just the blink of an eye, she had flipped him on his back. Quinn almost thought he teleported.

"That was...pathetic." She helped him to his feet.

Quinn took off his blindfold, turning around to face Li, his "attacker". Five foot seven, short black hair, and probably wrestled tigers for fun. She was training him. Or rather, she was beating him to a pulp while he tried to make contact.

Li continued, untying her own blindfold. "I can only pull my punches so much. You were distracted again, weren't you?"

"Or maybe I have a concussion from all the other sessions. Seriously, who trained you? Lady Shiva?"

Li shook her head. "Doesn't matter. You're lucky you're training here. If it wasn't for your mother, Circe would've had you drop dead the instant you set foot here."

Circe. After Nico decided to get rid of him (he wasn't in a position to disagree), he ended up on her new island resort. After a long series of events that, with any luck, his concussion would erase from his memory.

 _Your mother._ So they weren't siblings. Aside from her name, that was the first thing he knew about her.

Quinn snapped his fingers, and the back pain was gone. "Right. Wouldn't want to be a guinea pig, or whatever she's on now."

"Pygmy hogs, actually."

He sighed, leaning against the wall of the training room. It hadn't even been a year since he ran away from California. And now Quinn was on an island resort of hostile female sorceresses, led by his psychotic half-sister. Who would happily turn him into a pygmy hog, if it wasn't for their mother. Who was a goddess. "Of course."

"Yup." She took off her hand wraps, tossing them on top of a punching bag. "Take a breather, we're back on in five minutes."

"I hate you."

"I literally couldn't care less." Li strolled off in the direction of the showers, not even breathing remotely hard.

Screw that. Quinn got up, wincing as the movement made the pain flare back up. Yeah, he wasn't doing that again. Over a solid month of "training", and he hadn't even got in a single solid hit on her. She made Percy look like a toddler.

Percy. That was a sore subject around here. Apparently, him and Annabeth destroyed Circe's previous resort in the Sea of Monsters. He wasn't really sure of the details, but it involved milkshakes and Blackbeard.

Quinn passed by a group of sorceresses-in-training in the hallway. Some of them were his half-siblings, some of them other types of demigods, and even a few mortals among them. Circe didn't discriminate. The one thing they all had in common was they hated his guts.

He found what he was looking for. The stairs leading to the roof. He took them two at a time, pushing open the hatch.

Quinn took a deep breath. As much as it sucked around here, he had to admit the view was pretty amazing.

They were on a little island off the coast of Italy, right near the heel. Apparently it was Circe's old island, back in the days of "Gods and Heroes", as she put it. She even had a mansion, which somehow had stayed in perfect condition for millennia.

Right. She was a goddess. Most of the time, she felt like an immortal alcoholic 'wine-mom' that could use magic. It was hard to compare her to someone like Artemis, or even Zeus, as much of an asshole as he was.

He laid down near one of the chimneys, staring at the sky. Circe had put some sort of spell around her mansion, which took away all the light pollution. So Quinn was on the roof off a mansion within spitting distance of Italy, staring up at amazing constellations on a cool summer's night.

Gods, he hated it.

"Well, training sucked, but what else is new?" Quinn took out a flask he stole from the kitchen, taking a sip of mead. He stopped caring about underage drinking somewhere around the time his boyfriend was killed by a monster. It tasted horrible. Screwing the cap back on, he went on with his rant.

"Li is...interesting. Definitely not one of my half-sisters, she actually tolerates me. Though she does seem to enjoy beating the crap out of me." He laughed. "Bet you wouldn't be complaining."

Zoe Nightshade didn't respond. She was a constellation after all. And dead.

Quinn wasn't sure why he did this, sneaking up at night just to talk to someone who died with a healthy dislike of him. Maybe it was his form of therapy. He could definitely use it.

"Anyways, went to Italy the other day. Little town called Otranto. Circe sent me to pick up some stuff up. Did you know they sold pegasi on Amazon? Well, they do. I got to spend a little time there, so that was nice. Actually kind of beautiful. Alex would've loved always wanted to visit Rome. After Paris obviously. He's obsessed with that opera house."

Not for the first time, he wondered where Zoe went when she died. Someone like her would definitely end up in Elysium, but if they were a Hesperide, who didn't have their life force tied to trees or rivers or anything?

"Well wherever you are, hope its somewhere with mead. Or maybe you're one of those people who think its a sin, wouldn't surprise me. Some of you hunters are probably old enough for that whole booze-banning thing."

"You're of course, referring to the Prohibition moment of the United States, in the twenties?"

A few months ago, Quinn would've fallen off the roof. Now, he didn't even blink an eye. It was an island of sorceresses. Women appearing out of thin air was something that got old quickly.

Like now. The woman was leaning against the side of the chimney, in a black chiton that somehow looked darker than the sky. Most likely one of Circe's pupils. She looked familiar, though she wasn't looking him with that mix of disgust and anger that everyone had perfected.

Quinn quickly hid the flask. "Yes, exactly. Now fuck off, you're ruining the atmosphere."

Strangely enough, she didn't even try to turn him into a newt for that. The woman just laughed, like Quinn was a kid who said something cute. "Now what would your parents think of your rudeness? Did Artemis teach you any manners?"

That got his attention. He hadn't actually told anyone about his other parent. Of course, his eyes were a pretty huge sign. Over the past few months, they had been slowly changing from gray to silver, like his mother's.

"No, she ditched me in San Francisco for sixteen years. And fuck off, I'm not interested in getting into a bitch fight with-" Quinn paused. Something felt off with this woman. Something about the way she carried herself...

He turned, looking at the woman more closely. Quinn realized why she looked familiar: she looked just like Circe. Same green eyes, same blond hair, same aura of power that made the hair on his arms stand u when she drew near.

She wasn't exactly like Circe. Circe liked to look like she was still in her late twenties. This woman was definitely older. She had maybe fifteen, twenty years on his half-sibling.

 _Half-sibling._

Quinn froze as he realized just who he was talking to. "Hecate."

His mother smiled. "Hello Quintus. It's so nice to see you again."


	2. Dear Old Friends

Hecate was older than the gods themselves. She had been guarding the mist since long before Olympus was ever more than just a mountain. Maybe even before that. Some stories called her a daughter of Nyx, one of the primordials. Either that or she was a titan.

And Quinn told her to fuck off.

He laid back on the couch, wondering how screwed he was.

Shortly after his mother introduced herself, she brought him down to meet with Circe. Something about courtesy when visiting other gods or whatever. All it really meant was there was one more goddess that he pissed off in the room.

"And he was drunk for all of this?"

Hecate shrugged. "He seemed to have been drinking, yes."

Circe pointed at him. "See? This is why I don't like men here. All they do is drink. You remember my last domain, don't you?"

"Yes, it was quite lovely."

"Until it was destroyed by that sea god's spawn. I lost one of my best attendants, you know. Hylla Ramirez-Arellano and her little sister. What was her name? Reyna, or something like that. Whatever, she was a good hair stylist."

Quinn raised his hand. "Um, so-"

Circe snapped her fingers and Quinn's mouth vanished. " _You_ do not get to speak. All you've done around here is mope and pick fights with my attendants. I'm _this_ close into turning you into a pygmy hog and feeding you to my leopard."

Li seemed to be enjoying all the drama. She was actually smiling, for once. Quinn noticed she had stolen his flask sometime during the conversation.

Hecate coughed. "I think you're forgetting a certain incident in the Mediterranean a few hundred years ago?"

Blue flames started to dance in Circe's eyes, but she stayed calm, flicking her wrist and unsealing his mouth. "I remember."

"Good. Then leave us, please."

Whatever happened in the Mediterranean, it must've been important. Circe left without a word, leaving the two of them. Oh, and Li.

Hecate looked over at her like she had just noticed her. "Xiao Li. It's been quite a while. How's your father?"

Li (did she go by her last name, then? Or did Chinese names have their last names first?) shrugged. "Haven't talked to him in ages, but if I had to guess, he's still an asshole."

Okay, they had met before. And Hecate seemed to actually respect her. Who the hell was she? "So, you guys know each other?"

Hecate waved away the question. "We've met a few times, here and there. But we're not here to discuss ancient history, are we?"

"Uh..I guess not."

"No, of course not. We're here to discuss you." His mother sat down on a chair that hadn't been there earlier. "So, how goes the affairs of Quintus Angelopolous?"

Li raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"First of all, shut up. Second of all, shut up again." Quinn snapped his fingers. In a split second, all the mead in his flask turned to warm tap water. The next time Li took a drink, she paused.

"Now that's just disproportionate."

Hecate had been watching, and looked impressed when the change occurred. "Impressive. You're learning quite quickly," she said.

Quinn shrugged, just as a wave of dizziness hit him. Good thing he was already sitting down, or he probably would've fallen over. The smaller the action used to cast it, the more expensive the cost was. But magic was all about presentation. "Picked up some stuff in the underworld. And it's hard to spend time on Girl Scout Island for Sorceresses without learning something, at least."

"Except knowing how to fight anything deadlier than a cold."

He rolled his eyes. Did she seriously have nothing better to do than insult him all day?

Hecate shrugged. "You may bicker with her, but Xiao Li is one of the finest sword-fighters I've ever met. You'd do well to take her advice.""

"Well, first of all, I don't have a sword. Second of all, she's-"

"I'm sorry, what?" Hecate looked confused. "You lost your sword already?"

Now it was his turn to be confused. "What? No, I never had one. I had a whip, but then Luke took that. Then you gave me a scythe."

"No, I gave you a _sword._ You must be-"

Quinn pressed down on the earring, which he had fashioned into a bracelet. The weapon sprang into existence, complete with its soft white/golden-ish glow around the metal.

"Extraordinary..." Hecate reached out to touch the blade. She withdrew her hand just before making contact, as if it could actually harm her. "When did this change occur?"

"I don't know? First time it actually became a weapon, it was a scythe. Used to kill a squad of dracanae." Quinn remembered the one monster that tried picking it up. "One of them tried to pick it up, but it looked like it hurt to do that or something? like that."

"Something like that. It burns away all who would use it for unjust purposes, so I would refrain from using the sword of light for any subterfuge. Though it's clearly a _scythe_ of light now..."

"You're joking." Li was staring at Hecate, with a stranglehold on Quinn's flask.

"Not at all. I obtained it from an old friend of mine. Do you remember the-"

Quinn raised his hand for attention, which was kind of stupid considering he hadn't been in school for over a year. "Um, hey, your child over here. So what's so special about this scythe or sword or whatever?"

Hecate and Li seemed to be having a silent staring match. Finally, Hecate shifted.

"Xiao Li? Do you think you could give me a moment?"

"Sure, whatever." Li tossed him the flask as she left. "Here's your tap water back."

"Thank you." Quinn took a drink from the flask, which had reverted. He only made it _taste_ like water. Transmutation was expensive. And magic was all about presentation. "So what, it's like Riptide? Super cool sword given to me by a god, except it's made of another god?"

Hecate held up her hand. "One, I'm a _titaness_ , not a god. And two, yes, essentially. I thought it would be well-suited for you."

Well-suited? Quinn wasn't really a do-gooder, even by delinquent demigod standards. He hadn't really accomplished anything heroic. Still, it wasn't a good idea to insult a titaness. Any more than he already had, at least. "Thanks, I guess. But why exactly are you here?"

Hecate shrugged. "To see you, of course. I always need a champion to advance my purposes in the mortal realm. You're well-suited to that."

That sounded... pretty reasonable. But gods (and titans) tended to be cryptic, lying, assholes. it couldn't be that easy. "Yeah, I'm calling bullshit on that. Respectfully."

"That part is true, you know."

"But it's not the whole truth, is it?"

"No," Hecate shifted. "But that is a topic best suited for the end of our conversation. I imagine you must have many questions for me. Now would be the time to ask them."

Any questions? Quinn had thousands of them. What the hell was he, was there anyone else like him, did he have any regular siblings back at camp...

Instead, he blurted out something different.

"Did you ever visit me when I was growing up?"

That surprised him. It seemed to surprise Hecate, too.

She recovered, her face softening. "I have fity-six children you know, not including those that have already grown up. As much as I wish I could spend time with each and every one of them, I have to stay at a distance. But to answer your question, no, I did not."

Quinn looked down. Yeah, he should've expected that. Gods (or titans) were never really around.

"You were in the care of the Lanstons, who were quite capable guardians, never mind Cheryl's obsession with her tulips."

"Hydrangeas," Quinn said almost automatically. Then he felt mad at remembering a stupid little detail like that. "Whatever it was. And they were terrible parents, they sent me to a fucking mental asylum just because I could see through the Mist!"

"No, you were taken to a _psyciatric hospital_ because you were dangerous," Hecate corrected. "You started acting out, getting into fights with other people. Intermittent Explosive Disorder was the diagnosis, I believe. Do you not remember much of it?"

He couldn't, actually. It was all sort of hazy. Quinn couldn't even remember how long he was there for. One day he was, there, and then there was... something he couldn't place. And then he was on the run.

Instead, he snapped at her. "You're a god, shouldn't you know? Just take a look inside my head."

Hecate sighed. "Once again, I am a titaness. And no."

"What?"

"Your mind. I can't actually see it. I'm assuming it's a side affect of your unique makeup."

He frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"When I casted the spell that would result in your conception, there were a few... _side effects_ ," Hecate said, gesturing with her hands like Quinn did sometimes, "that I did not take into consideration. One was that. I'm utterly unable to pierce your mind, or tell what your future holds. No goddess or titan could."

"Really?"

"Have you had any dreams befitting a demigod of late? Have you ever?"

He thought about it. Not really. Maybe it was that weird amnesia thing of his. "Not that I remember."

Hecate nodded. "See? All demigods have the occasional prophetic dream, the result of their fates manifesting to themselves. But you do not. Whether this means you have no such fate, or that it is hidden from all... well, it really boils down to semantics. Either way, I suspect it's the true reason why Zeus wanted you dead."

Zeus. Last winter he was one of the ones voting to kill Quinn. At the time, he said it was because of Artemis 'breaking' her oath, but now... "And he didn't want to tell me why, because he didn't want me to know about it."

"Of course. Why tell your enemy of the advantage he holds over you? It's most likely why some of the other gods voted alongside him. Chastity would be somewhat hypocritical of them."

Quinn laughed at that. It felt good to do that. "Yeah, especially for Aphrodite," he said. Wait. "Hold on, do you know why she voted to kill me? If she went through all the trouble of arranging it, why waste the work."

"Who knows the mind of the primordial goddess?" Hecate shrugged. "If I had to guess, I would say she found little use for you, after she deduced that Thalia would become your mother's new lieutenant."

And with that, Quinn's good mood went away. "Right."

They sat there in silence for a while. It seemed different from Styx, though. This time, it felt like Hecate was just giving him some time to get his thoughts in order.

Styx. There was that thing. "Uh, when I was in the underworld, I talked to Styx. The goddess, I mean."

Hecate raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I've heard. She seems quite taken with you."

She was smirking. What was that supposed to mean? Quinn was pretty sure Styx was married to a titan or something. Though that never stopped Zeus or Aphrodite or Poseidon or anything.

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling. "Anyways we were talking, and Alex came up, uh, he was a-"

Hecate waved it away. "I'm aware of him, continue."

"Anyways, I said he probably got himself killed because he was with me, and then Styx got all weird about that. She said I should ask you about it."

She seemed confused by that. "Hmm. I'm not sure what she could be referring to. She's no Aphrodite, but Styx tends to be very cryptic. I wouldn't put much weight in it. Unless you plan on seeing her again, that is."

Quinn rolled his eyes. He just met her, and she was already trying to play matchmaker between him and a goddess. At least she was involved.

"Thanks, I guess. Uh, hey, I just wanted to ask one more thing. The whole sort of astral projection-thingy? I'm guessing that's from your side." Quinn had been working on trying to broaden it. He eventually found out that with practice, he could see more and more through the Mist when using it. It seemed only natural that he got it from Hecate.

She tilted her head, frowning slightly. "Most of my children have some sort of articular mystical skill, like necromancy or divination. Astral Projection... I can't say its unheard of among sorcerers. But none of my children have ever displayed something like that."

Quinn got the sense that there was something his mother wasn't telling him. But the whole open questions thing already felt slightly forced, like she was trying to make up for ditching him. He didn't want to mess it up like he did with Artemis the first time around. "Alright. Thanks."

"Think nothing of it." She was still staring at him oddly, like he was some interesting-looking bug. "If there's nothing else, shall we get to the crux of my visit?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

Hecate smoothed out her dress, taking a deep breath.

"For the last few months, both Dionysus of Olympus and Koios of Othyrs have been petitioning me. Neither would want to see me join with their enemies, especially with the storm so close to breaking."

The Second Titan War. Quinn had been pretty much out of the loop, being in the Underworld, and then on an island a couple thousand miles away from New York, but even here they were hearing rumors. More monsters stirring up, minor gods flocking to the titans, that sort of thing. There was definitely no love lost for the gods with Circe, but she hadn't done anything yet.

Maybe she was waiting for someone.

Quinn tilted his head. "Let me guess, you're joining your siblings."

"That shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to you," she shrugged. "When was the last time someone made an offering to me at Camp Half-blood, or even mentioned me? My children don't even have a cabin of their own."

He thought about it. Hecate didn't really come up all that much. There was the brief mention with Persephone's kidnapping, but other than that... "Fair point."

"Thank you. I suspect you would refuse any such invitation if I extended it to you, even considering your estranged relationship with the camp?"

"Yup."

"Hmph. Very well." Hecate stood up. "Then I should tell you that your dear sister has been waiting for my signal to declare her allegiances. I was on my way there to discuss the matter with her, but _somehow_ my polecat got herself lost in the underworld."

She snapped her fingers, and a polecat probably found itself in the Styx. Whatever that was.

"You have a polecat?"

"Of course. The point is, it might take me a few hours to find her first. Understand?"

She was letting him go, just like that? If it wasn't for the whole Joining The Titans thing, they'd probably get along pretty well. She had done a lot more for him than Artemis had, that was for sure. "Uh, I think so. "

"Good. I hope next time we meet, it's under happier circumstances." Quinn shielded his eyes as Hecate started to glow, and after a burst of light he was alone again.

So his mother (the other one) showed up out of nowhere, asked him to join the titans, and then kicked him off the island. Though the last part was mainly for his own good, they'd take the first chance they got to rip him to shreds.

Now, where was he going to go?

As if answering him, a cloud formed in front of him. Quinn recognized it as the other side of an Iris message. Who the hell would be calling him?

Quinn waved it through (Iris messages and the like had to be manually accepted on the island). He left things with Thalia pretty sour, and he wasn't close enough to anyone else for them to make that much of an effort. Maybe Silena?

Nope. Instead of the daughter of Aphrodite, there was a certain stringy-haired daughter of Ares. Clarisse La Rue.

 _Great._ He didn't exactly dislike Clarise, but...well there was a reason she wasn't really popular outside of her cabin. Or even inside, from what the rumors he heard. But she was at least polite towards Silena, and they didn't really get in each other's ways."

Quinn frowned. "What do you want?"

Clarisse frowned back. "Why do you have a scythe?"

He barely realized he still had it out. For a glowing six foot long weapon, it blended into the background pretty well.

Tapping it against the ground twice, it shrank back into its inactive mode. "Because monsters don't die if you ask them nicely. Why are you calling me?"

From the background, he could tell Clarisse wasn't at camp. He could see a bed behind er, and a window overlooking some dusty field. Arizona, maybe? He heard her mom lived there.

She looked down at the ground for a moment, taking a deep breath before talking again. "You know I don't like you, right?"

"...Okay?"

"But even considering that," she continued, "I'm still coming to you for this instead of, I don't know, my cabin or Beckendorf or someone."

Huh. That was interesting. Clarisse was the type of person who'd charge a drakon with a knife. She'd win, too. If she was actually asking for backup, it had to be serious. "Alright, fair enough. What's up?"

She bit her lip. "Cant say. How soon can you get to Phoenix?"

Quinn had no idea. He'd have to take a boat or something to the mainland, closest airport would probably be in Bari, and then he'd have to fly across the Atlantic Ocean without running into a monster... "I don't know, a day or two?"

"Fine. Just get here, quickly." Clarisse waved her hand through the screen, making the image dissolve.

Now that he time to think, that was oddly convenient. Just as soon as Hecate kicked him out, Calrisse showed up. And how'd she know where he was, anyways?

Quinn walked out the door, only to see Li casually leaning against the wall.

"Were you listening to that?"

She shrugged. "Not really, but I can guess what happened. You need a way out of here?"

He tensed. Li was just lying against the wall, totally at ease. He had his scythe with him, if it came down to a fight. And failing that, there was always his magic. Not that he could do much with it. "Maybe."

"Perfect. Come on, we don't have all day." Li pushed herself off the wall, walking down the hallway.

If it was a trick, there wasn't really anything he could do right now. Quinn followed carefully.

They stopped twice, Li dragging him into an alcove or a closest with a hand on his mouth whenever a gaggle of sorceresses passed by.

Finally they got to a wing of the mansion he hadn't been in before. Li pushed open the door, revealing a bedroom. Li's room?

It was pretty plain, for a house of sorceresses. A bed, a nightstand, and a dresser was all there was. Quinn pictured something a bit more fancy. Not that he pictured her bedroom a lot. Or at all.

Li walked over to her closet, took out a orange duffel bag, and tossed it to him.

"Here you go. Go through the door at the end of the hallway, you'll get to the docks. There's a boat down there, should get you to Bari in a few hours."

Quinn looked down at the bag. "What's this for?"

"Everything you need to get to New York, or wherever you're heading to. A change of clothes, Celestial Bronze knife, money, ambrosia and nectar, book for the plane ride. I have several. Sooner or later, you get into a situation where you can only grab a bag and run for the hills."

"No I didn't mean that." Quinn gestured to himself, "Why help me at all? You don't seem like you like me that much."

Li raised an eyebrow. "'Like you?' What are we, children? And even if I didn't, that doesn't mean I want the titans to win. Who knows, maybe you might actually be able to do something. Especially with _that_ weapon."

Quinn took a look at his bracelet. Originally it had been a pretty crappy earring. Now, it was a slightly less-crappy bracelet. "You know, you guys still haven't told me anything about it. It's a scythe that used to be a sword, and it glows. So? Percy has a sword that can turn into a pen, and it glows too."

She laughed at that. Not a happy kind, but the sort of laugh when something said something that was just stupid. "Oh, you'll find out soon. Just keep an eye on it, and don't do anything stupid with it."

He stumbled as she pushed him out of the room. "Wait, hold on. So if I'm gonna be off in Phoenix doing whatever, what are you gonna be doing? You don't seem like a huge fan of the titans."

"Don't worry about it." And with that, she shut the door behind him.

Quinn sighed. It hadn't even been a year and here he was again, running for his life.

"And another damn plane ride. Hopefully this goes better than the last one."

* * *

Surprisingly, it did.

The only flight to Phoenix had already been booked, but Quinn managed to "convince" a rather rude passenger in first-class that his flight was actually in Rome. And aside from the layover in Portugal, there wasn't even a hint of trouble.

Not that it was any trouble at all. His scythe sliced through the monster's armor of plane scraps like it wasn't even there. It may have had a sense of guilt or whatever, but it was still the perfect weapon.

As Quinn stepped off the plane, he stopped when he felt the heat slam into him. "Holy shit."

One of the flight attendants smiled sympathetically. 'Welcome to Phoenix, sir. First time?"

"How do you even survive in this Is this normal?"

She shrugged. "Well for the evening, yes."

If whatever Clarisse called him for didn't end up killing him, the heat definitely would. He made a note to make an air-conditioning spell and moved on.

Speaking of the daughter of the war god, he could see her right outside the gates, pacing nervously. She had her electric spear strapped to her back. It was a wonder how she brought that through customs.

Quinn walked up. "Well, you got me here. Now can you tell me?"

She didn't even glare at him, as she grabbed the duffel bag with one hand. "Let's just hurry up."

Clarisse led them to a pickup truck, tossing his bag in the cargo space (was it still a trunk?) and getting in the passenger's side. As Quinn got in behind her, he noticed the driver.

She was a short, frail, pleasant-looking middle-aged woman. She looked in the rear view window and smiled. "Oh, you must be one of Clary's friends from camp! I'm her mother, but you can call me me Angela."

Clary? Oh, this was going to be _amazing_. The whole trip had already paid off. "Hi Angela, nice to meet you. My name's Quintus, but you can call me Quinn."

Angela waved her hand as they drove out of the parking lot. "Oh, I know. She's told me all about you. You're that son of Artemis, right? Isn't she a virgin goddess or something?'

So she knew about demigods. Clarisse never mentioned her, on the handful of times that they actually talked to each other. "Yeah, just learned about it myself. It's kind of complicated."

"Oh, aren't they all. Mine was"

A though occurred to him. "Hey Angela, I was just wondering. How did you meet Ares? _Clary_ never seems to want to talk about it."

Clarisse was back to scowling again. Either she or the heat would end up killing him now.

Angela gasped. "What? Clary, you love that story!"

"No I don't," she muttered.

"Oh, hush. It was about twenty years ago, in Iraq. I had been deployed there for about six months at the time I think, when I met him." They turned off the main highway, driving onto a dirt road.

"You were a soldier?" Considering it was Ares they were talking about, it made perfect sense. The war god was a patron of the Amazons. Or was that Mars? Whatver, same thing.

"Oh no, never lifted a rifle in my life. No, I was an F-three. That's a flight medic. You can kinda guess what I did. No actual combat, mostly airlifts. Until one day, we go down. Francis said it was a missile, I don't know, but we go down hard. No one dies, thank god, but we were stuck in a war zone for over twelve hours, and the pilot had a leg bleeding like a waterfall.

Angela killed the engine. He had been so absorbed in the story, he hadn't even noticed they were there. "Woah. What did you guys do?"

She shrugged. "What could I do? I bandaged the pilot's leg, stitched up Francis, and tried to keep our transfer from bleeding out. Longest twelve hours of my life, but we made it. We get picked up with medals all around. A general I've never seen before came up to me afterwards, said he was impressed. And the rest is this little _chérie_ here."

Angela picked up a cane and hobbled out, leaving him and Clarisse in the sweltering truck.

"Honestly Clarisse, your mom's pretty badass."

Clarisse shrugged. "Yeah. She's alright. Anyways, we should get to-"

A scream from inside the house interrupted them. It definitely wasn't Angela's, as he now couldn't imagine her being fazed by anything less than a dragon. Also, it was way too deep for her voice.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Uh, what was that?"

Clarisse sighed. "The problem.

* * *

Even though Li could and did kick his ass on both sides of the Atlantic, he learned a few things. Of course, training was never really like the real thing. Training was with always with someone on the (somewhat) friendly side, some one sticking to a pattern, and was thus predictable.

So an actual fight was something he hadn't dealt with yet. So he went straight to magic.

Quinn stepped back as the guy rushed forwards. He snapped his fingers and he tripped over a tiny little speck of energy at knee-height, falling flat on his face.

"You idiot, don't hurt him!" Clarisse rushed to him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Clearly the right choice was to let him attack me. Why do you care anyway, who's he to-" Quinn stopped. The guy looked familiar. He had already left camp by the time Quinn arrived, but he had seen pictures of the guy.

Chris Rodriguez, son of Hermes. And a defector to the titans. At least formerly. Now Clarisse had him squirreled away in her room, tending to hi with a level of kindness that was... interesting.

He crouched down carefully. Luckily Chris didn't seem interested in fighting anymore. Now he was looking at Quinn like he was Kronos. And muttering to himself.

"So, you wanna tell me why your boyfriend, who's a traitor, is staying in your room? Oh, and why he's gone insane?"

Clarisse glared at him. That was starting to lose its effect. "He's _not_ my boyfriend."

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Sure. You're just doing this out of the kindness of your heart. That explains why you called me, though. Wouldn't want anyone at camp finding out about this. But what's with him?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." Clarisse tried to touch a bruise on his face, but Chris slapped her hand away and scrambled out of reach. "H probably came out of the labyrinth, but hat's all I know for sure. He just rambles a lot, I'm still trying to figure out what he's talking about."

"Method to to his madness, maybe. You remember anything?"

"Uh...not really. There was the thing about string...Hold still Chris, it'll be fine."

String. Ariadne's string? Dealing with the labyrinth, it seemed more than likely. But that didn't tell them much. "Anything else?"

Chris seemed to have a cal moment, and Clarisse took the opportunity to feed him bits of ambrosia. It was surreal watching the mean-spirited daughter of Ares actually care for someone. "He talked about a son of Poseidon. Don't think it was Percy. Something about an underground arena. You remember any of his kids?"

"Posiedon? " He almost had as many affairs as Zeus did. The difference was that his wife wasn't the goddess of marriage. "Nothing that could help. All his kids tend to stick to the ocean, bad and good. Is that all?"

"Yeah, except for a bit about a ghost king, but there's like, hundreds of Greek kings. Could be any of them."

Quinn froze. A ghost king wandering the labyrinth? It could be a coincidence. But Ariadne was Minos' daughter. Where else would they be?

He did his best to keep his voice calm. "Yeah, pretty much. Hey, mind if I try something?"

Clarisse looked suspicious. She moved in front of Chris slightly. "Try what?"

"Just want to see his thoughts. Won't hurt him."

She didn't seem to want to move, but she did. "Alright. Didn't know there was mind-reading spells."

"Eh, it's like Lego. You can follow the instructions if you want, but you can still make something if you know what you're doing." Quinn moved forward, placing his hands on Chris' temples. "Alright, let's take a look into that pretty little head of yours.."

* * *

 _"Earthshakersacrificelabryinthskullsohgodwhereareamimarywhereareyoupleasedon'tleaveplease-"_

* * *

Quinn took his hands off, breaking the link. "Woah."

Clarisse was sitting on the bed, watching the two of them. How much time had passed? "Well? You figure anything out?"

"No, not really. It was kind of just a rush of thoughts. Give me a minute." Quinn didn't catch much, but something about the 'Earthshaker' and a sacrifice stood out. If Chris ran into a son of Poesidon, then the sacrifice...

He turned to Clarisse. "Hey, you know anyone named Mary? She came up in his head. I'm guessing she's a demigod, but I wasn't around when he left."

She shrugged. "Dunno. Never heard of her." Quinn could tell that it bothered her.

"Hmm. Could be one of his siblings."

"Yeah." Neither of them really believed that.

Quinn got up, stretching. "Well he was definitely in the labyrinth, that's for sure. If we can get down there, I might be able to figure out a tracking spell, or something. Where's the entrance?"

From what he learned, the labyrinth was basically the basement to the entire world. Someone could enter it in Ireland and come out in San Francisco. Entrances were all over the place, if you knew what you were looking for.

But Clarisse just shrugged. "About a mile out into the desert. But the mirages are really strong around that spot, and wandering around in this heat..."

"So we'll go at dawn, then. Or whenever doesn't feel like the ninth level of hell."

"Actually, the ninth circle of hell is supposed to be cold."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you've actually read something other than _Fight Club_ or death threats?"

"...No, shut up."

He laughed as he walked out. "Alright, whatever. See you in the morning, _Clary._ "

After a few seconds, Quinn realized something. He walked back in.

"Actually, where am I sleeping again?"

* * *

In the end, it was a couch in the living room.

It wasn't so bad. Definitely better than having to share a room with Chris, that was for sure. Quinn could hear his muttering all night.

He finally managed to fall asleep somewhere around midnight, only to be waken up after what felt like seconds later by Clarisse.

She was already in her usual celestial bronze armor, complete with her helmet that looked like a boar's head, the symbol of Ares. It was supposed to be fearsome. All it really did was make it a lot easier for campers like Drew to come up with unflattering nicknames.

"Get up, it's morning."

Quinn looked out the window. It was still pitch-black outside. "Uh, not really."

"Well it's as cold as it's gonna get, so get up, unless you want to be roasted alive in your armor."

He yawned, kicking off the blanket Angela had dug out of the closet. "Oh, I don't actually have any armor."

Clarisee rolled her eyes. "If course you don't. Go eat breakfast or something, I'll be right back" She trudged back up the stairs, sounding like a bull in a china shop.

Quinn found some bread, and after an embarrassingly long amount of time, figured out how the antique toaster worked. No butter in the fridge, for some reason. Maybe it was an Aiozona thing. The second it was out of the fridge, it would probably melt.

He was still trying to find jam or something when Clarisse came back downstairs, with an armored Chris in tow.

Quinn frowned. "Uh, what the hell is this?"

"Chris. I think you guys have met, right?"

"Ha-ha. You're hilarious. I _meant_ , what the hell is he doing here dressed in armor, like he's going with us."

She sat him down at the counter and started making him toast. "I Iris-messaged Chiron last night, and he thinks he can help Chris. So we're taking him abck to New York."

Quinn looked at Chris. He seemed pretty stable at the moment, but just last night he had attacked him. So it would be pretty stupid to give him a weapon, which meant Clarisse and him would have to watch their own backs a _nd_ his. "No fucking way. How the hell are we supposed to get through the labyrinth with him hanging round? Why don't we take him on a plane?"

"And what do we do if he snaps and attacks a mortal?" Clarisse asked. "And even if he doesn't, we'd still be three demigods travelling together, so every monster for miles would be looking for us. At least this way we'll be moving quicker."

She had some good points. And like time, space in the labyrinth was weird- two steps could take you an inch forward or several miles. They could be in New York in a few hours.

It'd still be a terrible, terrible option. But what else did they have?

"I'm gonna regret this." Quinn picked up his duffel bag. "But let's go. No point in standing around all day waiting to die."


	3. Holes and Monsters

**Wow, has it really been eight months? Sorry for the huge delay. I should have another chapter up by Christmas, but I can't say for sure. Enjoy!**

* * *

"So, you can do magic now?"

Quinn shrugged. "Either that or I'm hallucinating. Speaking of, Chris."

"Or you could be manipulating the Mist and making everyone else think you can," Clarisse said as she yanked the hallucinating demigod away from yet another rattlesnake nest.

For whatever reason, the Mist in the desert was unusually strong. Clarisse guessed that it had something to do with the labyrinth entrance, the residual magic leaking into the surrounding area. Not like he had any better theories. For all his training, all he knew about magic itself was that it was a thing that made other things do things.

But whatever the cause, the Mist interacted with desert mirages to make ridiculously strong hallucinations. And nasty to a degree that almost made him think it was alive. Quinn, the only one who could see through the Mist, had to drag Chris away from killing himself at least three different times when he saw a rattlesnake nest as a fountain.

Clarisse had built up some resistance travelling to and from the site so often. She had used her mother's clear-sighted eyes as a guide for the first few trips, planting GPS markers along the way. But they had a short battery life, and the suspiciously strong desert winds had a habit of scattering them.

"Actually, manipulating the Mist is a form of magic. It's one of the few things that can be picked up by other demigods without too much training."

"Hmm. Know any other types of magic?"

Not really. Magic was complicated, and all his sorceress half-sister hated his guts. "Only the basic general stuff. I have a pretty limited 'battery', being a child of Hecate and another god, so I can't really do some of the bigger spells. I do know a little necromancy, picked it up from a ghost."

Clarisse laughed. "Looks like we have something in common, then."

Quinn frowned. "Say what now?"

"Well soldiers on the losing side of wars owe tribute to Ares," Clarisse explained. "But dad doesn't really like catapults that didn't fire off properly, or warhorses that were too skittish to charge the enemy. So he usually just takes their souls as tribute. So if I do a little ritual, offer up some sacrifices to my dad, I can borrow some undead confederates or SS soldiers to help me out."

"Lucky." He remembered Percy telling him about meeting up with Clarisse in the Bermuda Triangle She was on some old World War Two ship staffed by Confederate zombies. "I'm mostly stuck with ghosts, Hecate being the queen of ghosts and all. I can pretty much make them do as I say, but it drains a pretty large amount of energy, which isn't much in the first place."

"At least, you can just do it yourself," Clarisse shrugged. "Before I went on my quest, nobody in my cabin's used the ritual in centuries. Ares is... not a god you want to annoy."

"Same here for Hecate. She's a titaness, after all. Then I told her to fuck off."

"Yeah, that's-wait, _what?"_ Clarisse stumbled as she just heard what he said. "You told a _goddess,_ your own mom, to fuck off and you're still alive?"

"In my defense, I thought she was just an ordinary sorceress. I was on Circe's island for a bit, long story, but the place is crawling with them."

She shook her head, continuing on. "Still, same question. People got killed or turned into animals or something worse for a lot less than that. Why'd she let you live"

Quinn had been wondering about it for a while. Hecate was a lot more honest than Artemis was, but something about her made it felt like she was holding something back... "No idea. I think she's using me for something, I just don't know what for. She gives me some super-powerful glowing scythe that's supposed to be a sword and she goes and tells my half-sister Circe to let me stay on the island, and she got me out of the place when things went south."

Clarisse frowned. "I guess that's how my Iris-message got to you. But what can you do that a goddess can't?"

"No idea," he said. "I'm immune to prophecy, I slip under the radar or something like that. Maybe she wants a secret weapon, something that no one can see coming? But then you'd think she'd be a bit more annoyed when I decided not to join the titans, right?"

Now it was Clarisse's turn to look mildly surprised, which she did pretty well.

"Yeah, after giving me the scythe, she asked me to join the titans. All her other kids are pretty much doing the same, and so's Circe. But then when I turned her down and she left the room, your Iris Message popped up just a few seconds later. She's manipulating me, I'm just not sure how. Also, Aphrodite. Did I mention that? Apparently, Aphrodite was mad at my mom, Artemis that is, because of something else. So then she goes to Hecate, and they make a spell that makes her pregnant with me, which Artemis thought she did for a story. Only son of Artemis, the virgin goddess? Something like that would be perfect for her. But at the winter solstice when the gods voted to kill me, she voted Yes, so I have no idea what's she planning."

There was a long, heavy silence after that. He realized how long it had been since had really talked to anyone. Anyone still alive, that was.

Quinn glanced up at the skies, but the constellations had vanished hours ago.

They walked on in relative silence, stopping every so often to pull Chris back on the trail.

It felt like it had been ages when Clarisse seemed to find her voice again.

"Seems like you've had a fun past few months."

Quinn laughed. It felt good to laugh again. "Yeah, it's been weird."

He looked over at Clarisse.

She stared back. "What?"

"Um, nothing. Just, uh, I can see why Chiron chose you for this mission." That was as close to a compliment as he could ever see the daughter of Ares accepting.

Luckily, she seemed to understand. "Well, you haven't died yet, so I guess I made an okay call getting you here."

"Thanks," he said. "Oh hey, we're here."

"What?"

From what Clarisse had told him, the site was originally going to be a mega mall. It was going to be a major tourism attraction with dozens of new stores, roller coasters, and even an ice rink inside. But just after construction started a rare species of cacti was discovered in the area, so then the whole project was shut down.

It was probably for the best. An entrance to the labyrinth under thousands of unaware mortals was just a disaster waiting to happen.

He grabbed Clarisse and Chris and pushed them past the barely readable sign about trespassers being 'osecuted'. As soon as they had passed the chain-link fencing, he could see their eyes refocus on the half-finished buildings that had just popped up out of nowhere.

"Ugh, always hate when that happens." She took over from there, leading the two of them deeper into the site. "Makes me wanna throw up. Come on, it's not much further."

They walked past past broken down tractors, scrambling over a mess of steel parts that Quinn guessed used to be part of a construction crane. Now that he thought about it, it seemed kind of weird that whoever owned the site would just abandon all the equipment there.

Maybe it was the labyrinths fault. Monsters kept coming up and eating all the workers. Or maybe it was the Mist, and everyone forgot that there even was a construction site there in the first place.

He almost bumped into Clarisse, who decided to stop beside a hole in the concrete.

Quinn frowned. "Seriously? This is it?" It was just a hole in the ground. A perfect circle bout three feet across, perfectly level with the rest of the dusty cement. If it wasn't for Clarisse, he would've walked past it hundreds of times before noticing it.

"What were you expecting?"

"Balls of string, ancient kings. Maybe a minotaur or two." He knelt down beside the hole. It was hard to tell where exactly it started, but the cement around it was different from the rest of the site. The construction had been here for four or five years, but it looked at least a hundred times older than that.

Quinn tossed a pebble down, seeing how long it took. He didn't hear anything.

Then it hit him (the revelation, not the pebble). _Duh, it's a desert. There's probably a huge pile of sand down there._

He held out his hand and the stone flew back into it. "Alright, don't think it's that deep. Probably gonna be sand down there anyways, so at least we'll have a soft landing. Should we all go down at once, or one at a time, or... Clarisse?"

Looking up, Clarisse had a rope around her waist, which she had just finished tying around Chris. Chris, the one who had attacked him the moment they met, almost died several times on the way over here, and oh, was also insane at the moment.

He tossed the stone away. "No."

Clarisse frowned. "You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"I can guess. You're gonna say something like 'Hey, how about you _literally_ tie your life to someone who's insane?' He'll get us killed."

"You don't know that."

If it was possible to shrug sarcastically, Quinn did just that. "The first thing he did when he saw me was try and attack me, so I kinda do. What if that happens when we're in the middle of a fight? If we're lucky, and I can't believe I'm saying it, all he'll do is be dead-weight that we'll have to protect and not someone who'll try to bash our head in."

She looked over at Chris. Chris had wandered off a little, sat on a pile of plywood, and started rumbling to himself again. He wasn't really helping his own case.

"Well, do you have a better plan?"

He looked back the way they had came in. "We borrow, buy, or steal a car and drive back. We'll know where we are and the road won't be trying to kill us. It'll take about two days, but at least we can't get lost there for years.'

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Do you have a license? Because I don't."

That was a good point. Between the running away, mental asylum, and camp, Quinn never really had time to get one. And he definitely didn't have enough power to hoodwink every traffic cop between Arizona and New York.

He looked down at the runes he had drawn. Deep red.

"Fine, we'll go with your plan."

 _This is gonna suck._

* * *

After some minor squabbling, Quinn decided to just tie the rope around his hand, walking in the back. That way he could easily get loose if (or when) a monster attacked, and he wouldn't be _literally_ tying his life to someone who had recently been driven to insanity.

Clarisse didn't really care. She kind of had her hands full. In addition to being an architect's worst nightmare, the labyrinth was constantly shifting and growing. What was there yesterday would look like it never existed the next day, which made navigating it basically impossible. How she was doing it, Quinn had no idea.

Either way, she hadn't said a single word since they entered the maze. Chris, surprisingly, seemed to finally shut up for once. And in what semed to be the latest joke in his life, Quinn found it even more unsettling than the babbling.

Even their footsteps were silent, seeing as the whole corridor was covered in a thick layer of sand. The only sound was the distant grinding of whatever the labyrinth was made of as it expanded outwards.

He couldn't take the silence anymore. "So, how'd you guys meet?"

Clarisse didn't look even loo back at that. "For the last time, I said-"

"I didn't mean in _that_ way," he said defensively. "Just wondering how you know each other. Kind of boring down here."

She was silent for a while. He couldn't tell how long. Maybe it was like the underworld. Time was weird down there. As Minos poetically/annoyingly liked to say, _"The dead have no use for such trivialities."_

Quinn wondered where Nico was now. The ghost king knew the labyrinth like the back of his hand. Hell, the inventor Daedalus built it on his orders. Nico and him could be anywhere, just waiting for the right time to strike back-

A pile of sand near Chris' foot shifted as a small creature burst out of it. Quinn activated his bracelet, stabbing downward at the creature even as the scythe blade was still growing.

Clarisse jumped, nearly skewering the two of them with her electric spear.

"Jesus! What the hell was that?!"

"Uh..." He poked the tiny little corpse with his scythe, the light illuminating the body. "I'm not exactly sure..."

Quinn had seen a lot of things since San Francisco. Goat-legged sorority girls, manticores with french accents, once even what he could've sworn was a unicorn walking down the street in Salt Lake City like it owned the place. But this was on a whole new level.

The creature was small, about the size of a fox, with talons and feathery wings like a chicken's, but it had scales covering its body like a snake. Its head looked like a snake, complete with an oddly long neck, but it had another head where its tail would be.

All in all, it was the strangest thing he had ever seen.

Clarisse seemed to think so too. "What the hell? What is that?"

"Beats me," Quinn shrugged. "It's not disintegrating, so doesn't look like it's a monster."

"But you still killed it with your scythe."

That was a good point. He looked at the strange blood staining the blade, turning the light a sickly shade of green. "Well yeah, but I'm not really sure what this is made out of anyways. Could be like Stygian Iron, that kills pretty much anything."

"What's Stygian iron?" she asked.

Quinn really needed to catch her up on things. "It's what the underworld uses instead of Celestial Bronze. Yes I was in the underworld, it's a long story, tell you later. maybe it's one of those spoil things, like Percy and the minotaur's horn, but with it's whole body."

Then he thought about it. "No, that just sounds stupid. Maybe-"

"The Amphisbaena is a snake with two heads, one at the top and one in the direction of the tail," Chris blurted out. "When it advances, as need for a forward movement impels it, it leaves one end behind to serve as tail, while the other it uses as a head. Then again if it wants to move backwards, it uses the two heads in exactly the opposite manner from what it did before."

Clarisse jumped again, nearly two feet this time. "Chris? You alright? How are you feeling, I was-"

"Wait, hold on." He placed a hand on her shoulder. Any other time, that would've gotten him killed. "That sounds way too lucid for him. I think he's just repeating something he found in a book or something."

"Oh." Her shoulders slumped. "Right. Yeah, that makes more sense."

Chris blabbered on. ""The Amphisbaena has a twin head, that is one at its tail-end as well, as though it were not enough for poison to be poured out of one mouth."

They both hastily moved away from the corpse.

Quinn murmured a few words, causing the blood to roll of the blade and onto the floor, where it made a hissing sound against the sand. "Amphisbaena... sounds familiar. I want to say something about Medusa's head, maybe? Either way, let's try and stay away from them."

"Huh. Alright."They kept on walking, making sure to avoid any suspicious piles of sand. "So," Clarisse said, "you've got 'mist vision', a glowing scythe, magical powers... you've changed a lot."

"Well, I found out who my godly parent was. Or parents, I guess. Tends to change people. But I'm guessing you were already a muscle-bound jock, right?"

" _No time hath she to sport and play, a charmed web she weaves alway."_ Clarisse stabbed downards at an amphisbaena sleeping by her shoe. "Fifth stanza of _The Lady of Shallot_ , by Alfred Lord Tennyson, Poet Laurate."

Quinn's eyebrows nearly went rocketing off his head. "Wait, you're into _poetry_?"

"Yeah kind of," Clarisse said. "But Cabin Number Five isn't the type of place where you show weakness, especially for a girl. Never would've been made counselor if Jordan or Sherman or Mark knew about that."

"Huh." His opinion of Clarisse was rapidly changing. Gods forbid, he was actually starting to like her. "So, why are you telling me this then?"

"Because I'm gonna kill you, obviously."

She said it so matter-of-factly that it took a few seconds for Quinn to realize she was kidding.

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Hah-hah. Says a lot about you that I thought you were serious at first."

"Even after I told you I liked British poetry?" It could've been the echoing maze, but he could hear a hint of a smile in her voice.

"Well, I-"

He paused. What was that?

"Clary, hold up for a moment." He looked behind them. Nothing but a sandy corridor, stretching out into pitch-black darkness. But he could've sworn he heard something...

She turned back, pushing Chris behind her. "What, did you see something?"

"Give me a minute." Quinn closed his eyes and focused.

He hadn't actually used it a lot. Astral projection was a tricky thing, and even more so when you were trying to partially hold yourself back. It was like trying to fall flat on your face instead of instinctively catching yourself.

Slowly, he pushed his sense of hearing down the corridor. The sound of Chris' breathing and the crackle of Clarisse's spear faded away as it made its way back down the corridor. He could hear the squeaking of the amphisbaena, until they faded away too.

Quinn was starting to doubt himself when he heard it. It was hard to make out, the sand had an annoying habit of muting things. But it sounded something like... metal?

No, hooves. It was hooves on stone. It sounded just like the horse-drawn carriages in Central Park.

With a sinking feeling, Quinn brought along his sense of smell. That was easier. Senses were like magnets, they liked sticking together.

Immediately, his nostrils started to fill up with the smell of wet fur.

"Oh, hell." He opened his eyes and fought the urge to vomit as his senses came rocketing back towards to him. "We're being followed by the Minotaur."

Chris mooed. In any other situation, it would've been one of the funniest things Quinn had ever heard. But right now it was just reminding him of how they'd be slaughtered in a fight. Percy had a hillside to fight the creature on, him and Clarisse would be turned into fertilizer in the hallway.

Clarisse seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Okay, not good. Should we stay and fight, or run like hell?"

"Well, I don't think it knows that we know. So we could just keep on going and-"

A distant bellowing echoed down the hallway to them, followed by the sound of galloping.

Quinn sighed. "Never mind. Run."

They pushed Chris between them and took off down the passageway. Luckily he seemed to get the gist of running for his lives.

Quinn cursed silently all the way, saving his breath for running. Though it wasn't like they'd be ale to outrun it. Forget Minos, the Minotaur _lived_ in the labyrinth. It probably knew every inch of the maze. He wouldn't be surprised if it could control it somehow. All they were doing was tiring themselves out, and then it would-

They turned a dusty corner, running into a room. It caught Quinn by surprise. Honestly, he was expecting it to be all winding corridors and Ancient Greek deathtraps. If they weren't about to die, it wouldn't be the worst place in the world.

The room was probably a hundred feet across, with the walls decorated in dozens of classical orange and black art pieces that he had seen on the side of pots and vases at camp. The ceiling stretched high enough that he was pretty sure it would be the size of a two story building above ground.

The good news was that the room was absolutely gorgeous. The bad news was that it was entirely circular, with no doorways but the way they just came in, which would soon be full of a very angry minotaur.

Clarisse turned back towards the doorway, bracing her spear against the floor.

"What, are you hoping it'll skewer itself?"

She shrugged, not taking her eyes off the doorway. "It's a classic cavalry tactic. Worked for Bannockburn."

Maybe for regular horses, sure. But judging from what Percy told him about it throwing cars around, it'd turn her into jelly. Quinn looked around the room, maybe they were missing something...

He noticed a fenced off section in the middle of the room and jogged over to check it out.

It was a hole. Another goddamn hole. Apparently the labyrinth didn't know how to make doors. Quinn leaned against the railing to check it out, only to jump back when the metal felt burning cold.

Quinn touched it again. Stygian iron. The railing was made of Stygian iron.

That was odd. Stygian iron was rare enough in the underworld where it was made. Spirits couldn't touch it without being absorbed into the metal, and the mines were located right under the palace. Trying to smuggle it out was a ticket straight to Tartarus for anyone other than Hades or Persephone.

It could've been constructed by another child of Hades. But why here, why in the labyrinth.

He had bigger things to worry about. If the railing around the hole was Stygian iron, then that meant it probably led straight to the Underworld.

But it was spring, so Persephone would be with Demeter, which meant that Hecate wouldn't be around, which meant that her children wouldn't be tolerated hanging around the place, and that was all assuming Nico wasn't still around. Even assuming the two of them could beat him, they'd still be in the underworld. Getting out without his permission would be impossible if they didn't have a god on their side-

Well, there was one option. He wasn't sure if it'd work, but they seemed to be on pretty good terms. Hopefully she wouldn't mind being used as a taxi service...

"Clary!" He waved her over to the hole. "We need to jump. This goes straight to the underworld, I can lead us out of there."

She looked at him as if had suddenly gone insane, which was understandable. "Are you serious? It's the _underworld._ We're better off fighting."

"Then you're heading down there anyways, just a few minutes slower. Trust me, I know how to get out."

"I'll be fine," she said. "Percy fought it, remember?"

"That's _Percy._ As much as you hate to admit it, he's better than both of us. You're a good fighter, but you'll also have to watch Chris' back the whole time. Sure you can do that?"

Her eyes flickered over to Chris. "Fine. Help me out."

They both moved to grab Chris, who was having a frustratingly timed moment of _not_ being a complete idiot. "No. no no no no no no-"

Quinn didn't really have anytime to spend on it, so he snapped his fingers and used a neat little trick he had learned to make Chris collapse like a sack of potatoes. Unfortunately he had been using up his energy all day, and that seemed to be the last straw for him.

The last thing he heard was Clarisse swearing to kill him before everything was going black.

Wait, he forgot to say-

 _Oh well._


	4. Returning to Old Haunts

**Happy New Year, everyone! Hope you guys had a great holiday season. Unfortunately for me this means college is starting up again, so updates will be a little more sporadic. I can't say when you should be expecting the next update, I don't want to get your hopes up and then miss the deadline, but I should have at least one more (besides this one) around the start of March. Enjoy.**

* * *

Quinn woke up with his face hurting like hell.

He sat up, looking around. Everything looked a bit hazy right now, but Quinn was pretty sure he was in the underworld. It had the same weird taste to it.

Was he dead?

No, he couldn't be. If he was dead, he wouldn't be feeling like hell. Pain, it was how people knew they were alive, as Cheryl always liked to say. But if he wasn't dead, then what was he doing-

The memories started to fly back to him. Clarisse, the labyrinth, the Minotaur... They jumped into what he was pretty sure was a portal to the underworld, just as he was falling unconscious from working up too much magical energy.

Well, right about the portal. Quinn got to his feet, sending a new flare of pain through his ribs. Bruised at best, a few broken at worst. At least he was still alive. That was probably more than could be said for most people who entered the underworld. If he made it, then that meant his plan worked.

And if it worked, then where was-

"Well, that was a daring stunt."

Quinn spun around to see Styx sitting on the sand a few feet away, holding a wine glass full of nectar. She was looking at him like demigods dropping out of portals was something that happened all the time around the underworld.

"I've never received much prayer," the goddess said. "Especially of late. Consider that the sole reason I answered your request. In the future, keep in mind that I am a goddess, not your personal servant. Are we clear?"

Looking up along the path he was on, Quinn could see a solid wall of water in the distance churning against an invisible wall.

Styx had stopped the flow of the river. Quinn realized that was probably why his face was hurting. He had it against the bed of a river of acid.

"Yeah, sorry, believe me." Quinn said frantically. The number one rule with dealing with gods was never _ever_ insult them or say anything that implied they were not divine perfection and you were their willing servant. "I'm really sorry, we were being chased-"

"By the Minotaur, I know," she said. "Your friend Clarisse filled me in on the details. I told them to wait for you by the Orpheus Door while we finished our conversation."

They survived the fall. Finally, a bit of good news. They were probably in better shape than Quinn was-

Wait, what did she mean by 'conversation'?

Styx patted the sand beside her. "You better move. Charon has a fresh batch of souls to transport, and he'll be sure to complain to Hades to if he's held up any longer," she said.

In the distance, the force holding back the water disappeared.

Quinn scrambled up to sit beside her, barely making it before the water hungrily rushed in to fill the gap.

He wasn't sure what to expect from Styx. Did she really just want to talk? Gods usually weren't so... chummy with demigods.

Of course, Quinn wasn't exactly a demigod. He kept forgetting that.

Styx passed Quinn the glass of nectar. "That looks like a nasty burn. Drink."

Quinn knew better than to refuse. Rule 2 of dealing with gods: accept their hospitality and never ever question them. "Um, thanks." He took the glass. As always, it tasted like the root beer floats from a burger place back in San Francisco. One of the few things he actually missed about the place.

"So, last time we spoke, you were diligently serving out your duty to Ms. Di Angelo," Styx said. "But here you are now, almost falling to your death from the labyrinth. It's a bit of a leap, don't you think?"

Styx smiled at that. What, did he miss something?

Oh.

He nodded. "Yeah, we kind of had a... falling out."

 _Leap. Falling out._ They both laughed a little at the puns.

He noticed that the banks of the river overflowed when Styx laughed. Quinn scooted a few inches back, just in case.

"Anyways, about Nico. You know how we were fighting about Bianca's resurrection. He's been trying to talk to her for a while, but she's not talking. Either she reincarnated, or she's avoiding him. I try telling him that, but..."

"But he's as stubborn as a mule," Styx finished.

"Yeah. Plus, I think Minos told him something," he said. "I mean he's always been whispering to Nico, trying to turn him against me, but it was different just before I left. He was different."

"How so?"

Quinn shrugged. "I don't know. Less angry, more brooding. They'd always be talking when I was too far to hear them. Usually Minos disrespects me enough to say it to my face. If he's hiding what they're up to..."

"Hmm. Perplexing."

He looked over at her. "You already know, don't you?"

"Trust me when I say there's nothing you can do for him. It's a path Mr. di Angelo must walk alone." Styx said.

Gods. They had a habit for obscuring the truth in ominous-sounding riddles. A couple months ago, hell, even a few days ago, he might've fallen for that.

But then he met Hecate, who told him an interesting little quirk about him. She couldn't look into Quinn's mind or see his future at all, no god could. It was like there was nothing there at all. If the Titaness of magic who existed ages before the Olympians were around couldn't get into his head, what were the odds Styx could? Quinn was tempted to call her out on it.

But maybe she was right. Most demigods couldn't leave camp. Those who did had to get a prophecy first, which would usually say whether they would die horribly. He remembered Percy telling him about his. It sounded a little freaky at first, Percy had said, but everything worked out alright. Benefit of having an Oracle stored in the attic, they could tell if you would win or not.

Quinn wondered how it would've worked if he had joined them. Maybe things would've gone by quicker. Or maybe they would all get killed by Ares as soon as he opened his smart mouth. Whatever he did, the Oracle wouldn't have been able to predict it. Quinn would've messed up all of fate's carefully written plans.

Things were starting to make sense.

Quinn turned to Styx. "That's what you meant with Alex the first time we met, right? I messed up whatever plans the Fates or the universe or whatever had in store for him."

She didn't seem at all confused about the line of thoughts that led to that. Or how Quinn had been sitting there silently for a few minutes. "Essentially. Do you know of the Butterfly Effect?"

The Butterfly Effect. It ahead something to do with small thing causing huge impacts. Based on how a butterfly flapping its wings in the Atlantic could cause a hurricane halfway across the world. "Are you calling me a natural disaster?"

"Exactly," Styx said. "The world is much more ordered than you think. Everyone, god or mortal, demigod or monster, have their roles assigned to them by the Fates. Except you. Every step you take is one out of the sight of the Fates, and an indescribable impact on the perfectly ordered world around you they have woven. Hecate may have been destined to create you, for whatever unknowable reason, but its up to you now as to what impact you have. You could be one of the greatest heroes to walk the earth, or..."

She let the words hang in the air. They both knew what she was getting at.

Quinn leaned back. Hecate had told him it before, but it had kind of went over his head at the time. Hearing Styx describe him as a walking disaster for everyone on the planet really made it sink in.

He rethought about it again. "So, what you're saying is, I'm the only person in the world who has free will."

"Free will... I've never understood mortal obsession with it. If you are confined in Tartarus, do you consider yourself deprived of free will? You have your own agency even within the restrictive system. Possessing free will does not guarantee finding meaning in your own life, as you are insisting it does. If you consider being a walking embodiment of chaos, then yes, you are unique in all the worlds in that," she said. "But If you insist on discussing philosophy, I hear Plato is at the Judgement Pavilion today."

Worlds, plural? Was that including the underworld, or was there something else he was missing?

Never mind, that was a subject for another day. He kind of had more pressing things to worry about. Like how he was basically a walking wasteland of unpredictable choices affecting everyone around him.

The Butterfly of Doom, Quintus Angelopoulos-

No. That didn't fit. After the past few months, the name just felt fake. How about...

Quintus Artemisia. That felt right. He'd only met her once, but he got a weird feeling from Hecate. There was something she was hiding from it, he was sure of it.

Quintus Artemisia, the Butterfly of Chaos. It had a nice ring to it.

"Why are you telling me this?" Quinn asked.

Styx raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, were you not listening? You are a walking fragment of chaos. I'm aiming to keep the destruction to a minimum."

"Yeah but if you wanted to do _that_ , you could've just let me drop into the river," Quinn said, waving over at the polluted acid river. "It's not like you would be violating any of the Ancient Laws or anything like that, I dived into the underworld and asked you for help."

"Are you suggesting I should've killed you?" There was the tiniest hint in her voice that she was considering it.

"I'm saying you would've done it already if you were going to because you're not a super-villain, so that means there's something you need me for. Something that you value more than throwing the world into chaos and doom or whatever. So what is it?"

Styx seemed to be mulling it over. "Nothing," she finally said.

Quinn frowned. Nothing? "What? It has to be kind of important, you're a goddess."

"You misunderstand me, Quinn," Styx said. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Quinn realized that was the first time she had ever said his name. "I don't require your services at all. I'm not Hecate or Aphrodite. I have no interest in petty schemes or champions."

He wasn't sure what to say to that. It felt a bit odd to run into a god and not have them demand you do _something_ at least. Nobody in the myths ever met a god who just wanted to have a nice chat on the beach. "So what, you just like keeping me around?"

"Something like that, I suppose."

Quinn thought about what Hecate told him a... few days ago? He had no idea, he went from one timey-wimey place to another. Could have been months by the time they got back up.

She said she wanted a champion. Seeing as how Quinn could just run around with no god being able to read his mind or predict the future to see what he would do next, he could see how that could come in handy.

But then wouldn't Hecate have been madder when he turned down her offer? She just seemed to shrug when Quinn turned her down, even saying that she expected him to. Not the sort of attitude he'd expect from a goddess who just lost her super-secret god weapon.

Unless that was part of Hecate's plan. Did she want him to refuse?

Quinn sighed. Even if that was true, it wouldn't do him any good to keep thinking about it. It'd just make him more and more paranoid. Like what was going on with Styx.

"Alright. Anyways, I think I should head out now," he said while rising to his feet. "Friends are probably waiting for me, also don't want to attract any more attention by staying longer..."

Was Nico still in the underworld? He couldn't see why not. It was spring, Persephone was gone until the fall. Right now, his authority was only matched by Hades'.

Styx nodded. "That would be wise. You'll find them at the Orpheus Door."

The Orpheus Door. One of the only two permanent entrances to the underworld. It was the same one the musician created millennia ago to try and save his wife (it didn't work). The upside was that it came out in Central Park. The downside was that to open it, it needed music.

Quinn sighed. Hopefully, Clarisse was also hiding a singing hobby.

* * *

The two demigods were sitting by the entrance when Quinn came wandering down the Styx.

Clarisse jumped up form the rock she was crouching on when she saw him.

"What the hell happened? You were knocked out, half your face burnt up, and that weird goth girl-" She stopped mid sentence when she saw the wine glass he was still holding. "Where'd you get a drink from?"

"Styx" he said, motioning for them to follow him up the steps. "She got me nectar for the burns.

She tugged Chris to his and they started up the steps. "Styx? What, the goddess of the river? Why'd she tell us to go away, what were you guys doing?

"Talking."

"Talking." Clarisse's tone made it obvious that she didn't believe him. "I'm guessing you guys met each other before?"

"Yeah, back when I was in the underworld, we ran into each other." That wasn't really a lie. Quinn just left out how he got there, why he was there, and who he was there with. "Kind of just following up on our last talk, I guess."

"What were you guys talking about?"

Quinn paused. He really didn't feel like explaining the whole discussion to her. "None of your business," he decided to say.

Somehow, Clarisse seemed to accept that.

"Alright, I guess that's fair," she said. "It's probably private. Especially if it took so long."

"Yeah, that's right," he shot back.

Quinn frowned. That was too easy. For all her flaws, Clarisse wasn't the type of person who gave up on things easily. Or at all.

Whatever. He had too many things to juggle now. Anymore conspiracies or secrets and his head would explode.

"So," Clarisse said, slightly out of breath from carrying a suit of armor and a demigod up a flight of stairs, "Why hold onto the glass?"

"Because it's rude to litter Clarisse. I'm not a monster."

"Ha, ha." He could almost hear her eyes rolling in her head. "Seriously, though. Is it a gift or something?"

Technically it was. Styx didn't ask for it back but seeing as how she was a goddess, she didn't care that much.

He took a closer look at the glass. It wasn't anything too fancy. It was just an ordinary glass, something he'd seen Cheryl or Jennifer use dozens of times. Still, it'd do the trick.

"Watch out here, it gets darker," was all he said.

Something most people didn't know about the underworld was the lighting. It was all underground, so there wasn't a sun or anything to brighten the place up. Instead, it was a built-in function of the underworld that let spirits and people see perfectly while they were inside it, sort of like his astral sight. If it wasn't pointed out, most people would never notice it.

So, when someone would take the rare step of getting out of the underworld, it would get _darker_ as they climbed further to the surface world and out of the underworld, and then it would slowly start to brighten after that.

Quinn closed his eyes at this point, relying on his astral projection. He was starting to slowly get the hang of navigating with it. Behind him, he could see Clarisse with an arm around Chris, helping up each set of steps, now that she thought it was too dark for them to be seen.

They looked good together. Almost annoyingly good. If it wasn't for Chris' insanity, he wouldn't have any trouble believing they were dating.

He wondered how they met. Clarisse had been kind of silent about it when he asked before in the labyrinth. Did they meet at camp, or did they know each other before that? He didn't really know that much about Clarisse. He only arrived at camp less than a year ago, and he mostly hanged around Thalia and-

Quinn cut off the thought. Why did he care about them? It was their business, no need for him to be interested in it. It was kind of boring, really.

Thankfully, he was distracted by a smooth wall of rock. They had reached the Door.

"Okay, we're here," he said. "One tiny problem though."

He could see Clarisse and Chris about to bump into him, stopping abruptly when they heard his voice. Chris almost fell backwards, before being pulled back by his knight in shining armor.

"Great. So, what do we need, then?"

"Well, you know how it's called the Door of Orpheus?" he asked.

"Yeah, so?"

Quinn stayed silent.

Clarisse said something very unkind in Ancient Greek. "Seriously? We have to sing?"

"Or play an instrument," he offered. "Or If I could still use a phone, we could just use, I don't know, Taylor Swift."

"Taylor Swift helping demigods escape from hell." Clarisse laughed. "Somehow, that fits. Okay, do you sing?"

"Never done it before. How about you?"

Clarisse was quiet for a long time.

"If you ever tell anyone about this," she said, "I swear on the River Styx that I'll make you regret it."

Even underground, they could both hear the faint sound of thunder clapping. Chris muttered something about 'scary gods'.

Quinn held up his hands. "Hey, what happens in the underworld, stays in the underworld. Go ahead."

Clarisse took a deep breath and started to sing. _"On either side the river lie, long fields of barley and of rye, that clothe the world and meet the sky."_

She had a pretty good voice. Not Apollo kid-level, but decent for someone who looked like they never listened to anything other than heavy metal or rock and roll in their life.

 _"And through the field the road runs by, to many towered-"_ Clarisse was drowned out by the sound of the shifting rocks. Apparently, the rocks also thought she was decent.

"Not bad," he said. "Come on, I've had enough of the underworld to last a lifetime."

* * *

They came out blinking in the sunlight, right in the middle of Central Park.

It was around noon, judging by their shadows. A pair of old ladies were shuffling by, with one of them shaking their heads at the group of teens that had just appeared out of nowhere, one in Ancient Greek armor.

"Teenagers," she said to her friend/sister/fellow old person. "Give it a few years and this place will be full of them. Central Park used to be such a lovely spot..."

"Wait, it's Central Park?" Clarisse checked her watch. "Half past eleven. We spent hours in the underworld..."

"Yup, time's weird down there. Unless its the next day," he added as an afterthought. "Camp's only an hour or two away, so let's pick up a cab- oh, hold on. You have a drachma?"

Clarisse looked through her pockets. "Give me a moment... here, catch."

"Thanks." Quinn caught it, tapping it a few times against the glass he was still holding. "Got to get it _just_ right... There."

The next time he tapped the glass with the coin, it made a loud ringing sound that soundly vaguely like the strum of a guitar. The sound seemed to linger in the air longer than it should've.

Behind them, the Door of Orpheus slammed shut, waiting for the next idiot to open them up again.

"Alright, that's done. Don't want some jogger running into the underworld, so-"

Quinn was interrupted by Clarisse, who was staring at the glass like it was magic (which it was).

"Wait, what did you just do?"

"Just mixed up the sound.," he said. "Most magic takes a lot of energy unless you have something else to provide it. Somatic components, ingredients, rituals, you name it. I already had the sound, so it didn't take much to turn it into something the door would recognize as music."

He could see it slowly dawning on Clarisse. "You could've done that anytime, couldn't've you?"

Quinn nodded. "Yeah, but I wanted to see if you could actually sing. You've got a pretty good voice for a-"

Clarisse silently turned away, grabbing Chris and heading down the path.

He sighed. "Come on, really?"

She kept on going.,

"We should probably-"

She cut him off. "See you at camp." Chris gave him an oddly not-Chris farewell as he was walked away.

Quinn lost his temper "Fine then, take your stupid boyfriend with you! He'll probably run into traffic anyways."

Clarisse, to her credit, didn't even look back, just kept on walking.

Instantly, Quinn felt stupid. For the sake of one stupid joke that wasn't even that funny now that he thought about, he burnt up his one other friendship in just a few seconds. Yelling at her probably didn't help either.

The two old women from earlier had doubled back, looking scandalized. One of them had pulled out their phone, talking away on it while staring straight at him.

Quinn sighed, throwing the wine glass into the bushes. Cops. They were about the last thing Quinn needed right now. He definitely didn't have enough juice to hoodwink a cop and two women who were already suspicious of him. He needed to get out of there.

He got off the grass, heading along one of the paths away from the two women. Quinn could see the museum, so he was walking towards Fifth Avenue, where he could probably find a cab. Though considering it was almost noon in the middle of Manhattan, so traffic would be impossible to get through. He'd almost be better off walking.

Maybe he could take the Gray Sisters cab? He heard of them around camp. They were weird taxi cab service for demigods. Scary as hell and almost as dangerous, but they jump across the city almost instantly.

There was some sort of incantation to summon them, if he was remembering it right. He had no idea what it was. Clarisse probably would know.

 _Stupid, stupid Quintus._ Had to go and piss off the more experienced demigod (he wasn't a demigod, he reminded himself), and get himself left alone in the middle of New York.

 _Himself._ With a jolt, Quinn realized it was the first time he had been alone in ages.

Even when he wasn't taring with Li on Circe's island there was always a sorceress sneaking around him, acing sure he wasn't stealing something or sticking his nose where he didn't belong. And in the underworld, he had to pretty much stick by Nico's side if he didn't want to be ghost chow.

The last time he was by himself had to be... last December, when he was heading off to San Francisco.

Gods, he felt like that almost a lifetime ago. Now here he was, heading back to camp-

Quinn slowed down. Technically, he didn't really _need_ to go to Camp Half-Blood. Only reason he was going in the first place was to get Chris there, and Clarisse was taking care of that by herself. He could go anywhere he wanted to.

But where would he go? It wasn't like he had a lot of places to go. The Labyrinth was a death trap and Circe's island was full of sorceresses who would just love the chance to turn him into a guinea pig. San Francisco wasn't even an option.

Maybe he should go back to camp, at least for a little bit. Quinn needed to sleep, eat, shower and get a change of clothes before deciding on anything else.

He should also catch up with Chiron. The centaur could probably help him out with a few questions burning in his head...

Quinn stepped out into the side walk and was almost pushed over by a man trying to catch the bus that was already leaving the stop.

"Get out of the way kid, stop gawking!"

He sighed. If there was anything he missed about Circe's island, it was that no one would say anything like that to his face. They hated him, but they were also a tiny bit afraid of what happen if they did anything to him.

Crossing the street, he waved down a taxi, climbing into the back.

"Hey, don't I know you?"

Quinn looked up to see a familiar face. It was the cab driver from last time, the one who drove him and Nico. What were the odds of that?

"No, I don't think so," he lied. "Always, I need to get to Long Island, please."

The driver looked at him suspiciously, chewing on a piece of gum. "Pay up front," he said. Did he remember being stiffed? He'd remember ending his shift with a lot less cash than usual, that was for sure.

Quinn snapped his fingers. "But I just did, remember? Paid by credit card."

The driver looked confused, glancing down at the card reader. He seemed to be building up a resistance. That happened a little, especially if they kept being tricked into the same thing, or if it was something that they were skeptical about. Quinn poured a little more energy into his words, snapping his fingers again. "Look again, it's there."

The driver's face cleared. "Right, there was that weird, uh... thing with the card. Better get comfy, might take a while.

He sighed, leaning back as a wave of dizziness hit him. That was a close one. Now if he was lucky, he wouldn't have to fight a monster _and_ the oncoming headache he could feel...

* * *

After what felt like forever in rush hour traffic, they finally made it to camp.

It looked the same. Quinn remembered stumbling over the hill for the first time, nearly passing out in exhaustion just as he passed the magical barrier. Felt a hell of a lot better to roll up in a taxi.

As he stepped over the barrier again, Peleus raised his head in curiosity, sniffing away at the returning demigod.

"Hey Peleus. Miss me?" He scratched the dragon's head, right behind the ears like he always liked it. The dragon snorted a ring of smoke in pleasure, raising his head up against Quinn's hand.

He glanced up at Thalia's tree. Standing strong, like always. The Golden Fleece was swaying gently in the breeze from its lowest branch.

"Good job, boy." He patted him on the head, gently pushing him away before heading down towards the Big House.

Chiron was in his wheelchair on the porch, listening to the satyrs play their pipes in the strawberry fields. When he glanced out of the corner of his eye at who was coming down the hill, he almost dropped his glass.

"Mr. Angelopoulos... Clarisse told me you were coming, but that was hours ago. I was beginning to think you decided not to return." He wheeled his chair over to the table, where a chair that was interestingly empty of Mr. D was. "Care to sit?"

"Sure." He sat down. "Also, its Artemisia now. Quinn Artemisia."

"What? Oh, I see, I suppose you have the right to do so," Chiron said. "If I recall my early history, that was the name of an ancient Greek queen. She was an interesting woman. A bit too bloodthirsty for my taste, but an unshakable ally, if you won her trust."

Quinn shrugged. "I read it in a book somewhere, thought it would fit. Where's Dionysus, by the way? Thought he'd be here."

Chiron took a sip of his iced tea. "He's off on some important business for the Olympian council. Zeus's orders."

"Recruiting all the minor gods before they can join the titans? Hecate told me," he added at the look of surprise on Chiron's face.

Chiron raised his eyebrows. "Did she now? I don't suppose Dionysus has proved successful in his courting."

Quinn shook his head.

The centaur rubbed his beard, which looked a little grayer than the last time he saw him. "I feared as much. Hecate was honored greatly by the Olympians once, but now... I can see why she decided to join her kin. Most likely Kronos promised her a position of power in his ranks."

He straightened up in his wheelchair. "Never mind my gloom, I shouldn't push that on you. You and Clarisse just had a successful mission, that should be congratulated. But from what I heard, there was some sort of disagreement towards the end?"

Quinn sighed. "Yeah. Kind of got into a fight over some dumb thing. Clarisse ditched me and took Chris by herself here."

"I suspected as much.," Chiron said. "Don't worry, I'll talk to Miss La Rue and have the whole thing straightened out-"

"Actually, it wasn't her fault," Quinn interrupted. "It was mine. I did some dumb prank I shouldn't have done, Clarisse got mad at me for not taking the mission seriously enough, so she left. Totally my fault, she did everything right."

Chiron looked surprised. It must've been the only time Clarisse had ever got into a fight that wasn't her fault.

"...I see. Well, you seem to have seen the errors you made, so I don't' think punishment is strictly required. I trust that you'll make it up to her.?

"If she starts talking to me, sure," he said. Quinn doubted it. She seemed like the type of person to hold a grudge.

"Excellent. Now could you give me a recap on the quest? Clarise informed me a smidge on the particulars, s he mentioned the underworld, but she seemed... distracted, as I'm sure you're aware."

Quinn laughed. Angry as Hell seemed like a better translation.

"Yeah sure. Basically, we decided to go through the labyrinth, figured it was faster than driving. Also, it was easier than taking three demigods across the country." He made the mistake again. "I mean, _two_ demigods and a godling."

"Hmm." Chiron nodded, with a concerned look on his face. What was that for?

"Anyways," he said, pushing past the look, "We were going through the labyrinth when we ran into the Minotaur, which probably shouldn't have been a surprise. So, we found a portal to the underworld and jumped in."

"Sorry for the interruption, but you jumped into the underworld to get away from the Minotaur.?" Chiron was looking at him like he was Chris. "That seems a little unwise, doesn't it?"

Quinn shrugged it off. "Eh, not really. Been there before when I was... travelling. Styx helped us out."

"Styx?" Chiron's eyebrows went up. "As in the goddess of the river Styx, said to be the personification of Hatred? How did you convince her to help?"

"Didn't really do anything," he said. "She just helped us out. We met before, so I guess that's why."

"Gods rarely do anything for mortals without expecting anything in return," Chiron said. "Did you promise anything in return? What did the two of you discuss?"

Quinn fiddled around with his bracelet. "Nothing you'd be interested in, trust me."

Chiron frowned. "Well, I think something like-" Something seemed to click for him.

"Oh. Oh, I see. I suppose that's none of my business, then." He looked uncomfortable. "Just, um... Well, I don't think we need to have this conversation again."

What? When did they have a conversation about talking to goddesses? Chiron and him never really talked that much. All he could remember was orientation, and then when he was in the Zeus cabin-

Oh. Quinn suddenly realized what he was talking about.

Clarisse word's came floating back to him. _It's probably private. Especially if it took_ so long.

 _Oh._

"Chiron, I swear we didn't have sex, we were just talking." he said, feeling his face turn hot. "Promise, I swear it on-"

He stopped himself just in time. That probably wouldn't have been the best thing to say.

Chiron was looking somehow even more unconformable. "Uh..."

That probably wasn't what Chiron was talking about. Obviously.

Quinn slumped further down in his chair. Now he was wishing he was back in the Labyrinth, getting horribly murdered by the Minotaur or those weird poisonous chicken-snakes. Anywhere but where he was now.

"...and then we got out through the Door of Orpheus and came here. That's the end of it."

"The Door of Orpheus..." Chiron sighed. Did he know Orpheus? Probably, he knew just about everyone. "Just the fact that you know about that entrance implies a great deal. What exactly have you been up to, Quinn?"

"Around," he said. "I was on Circe's island for a bit, he has a new one near Italy. Picked up a little magic." Just as a demonstration, he wiggled his fingers and turned the table a deep blue.

Or that's what it looked like to Chiron. It'd take too much energy to change the colour of the wood, so he just fiddled around with the light a little bit to make look a little more blue-ish.

"Circe." He could hear the judgement in his voice. She did turn Percy into a hamster, after all. "I'd advise you to keep your distance, she can be incredibly dangerous. I understand she's your sister, but it's-"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Quinn said, waving off the concern. "She hates me. Only reason I was allowed around was Hecate told her to. But seeing as how Hecate's joined the titans now..."

"You'll most likely not be making a return," Chiron finished. "Does that mean you'll be returning here?

Quinn hesitated. Would he?

"Uh... well, I don't really have any other place to go right now, so... I guess? At least until I figure something out."

"I see." Chiron didn't sound disappointed in the least, just supportive. "I hope you make the decision to stay. I know for a fact that we would miss your presence."

Quinn nodded.

"I took the liberty of moving your belongings to Cabin Eight. You can arrange the interior as you like, seeing as you are its sole permanent inhabitant," he said. "There is also the matter of, uh, Miss Grace's personal belongings. She left a few of her things in Cabin One. Would you like me to-"

"Let's just leave it," he interrupted.

Chiron nodded. "Of course, whatever you wish. Seeing as how the Cabin will most likely be empty indefinitely, that shouldn't be a problem."

 _Empty indefinitely_. Chiron could've hit him over the head with a hammer, then turned him into a deer and let him be torn apart by dogs, and it would've been a subtler way of saying that Thalia was never coming back.

"Yeah," he said.

Chiron seemed to realize his mistake. "Ah. That could have been worded-"

"Yeah," he said again. "Can I go now?"

"Of course," Chiron said. "Lunch is at the usual time, but I can have someone bring it to your cabin if you wish. In any case, it's good to see you again."

Quinn nodded, not really having anything else to say. He had gotten up and was heading down the stairs, before he heard Chiron speak up again.

"Quintus, I believe you're forgetting something?"

He turned around to see Che camp director pointing at the now-blue porch table. _Oh, right._

"Sorry." He waved his hand, turning it back to brown. He continued heading down the steps, walking towards the wing of cabins. Apart from the Dionysus twins, who pretty much stayed at camp year-round, and a few Apollo kids playing basketball, the place seemed empty. Most demigods would've already left last month, after spring break ended and school started up again.

Quinn hadn't thought about school for a while. Last time he went to school had to be... almost a year ago now. It wasn't a good end. First, he got suspended after fighting with a teacher, then an actual fight with a student, then expelled after a real fight with a student who nobody believed was a Cyclops. After that, it was off to the loony bin.

Nobody seemed to be hanging around the cabins. There was that one girl by the fireplace, poking the flames with a stick like she always did. Was she a nymph? He had never seen her in any camp activities.

Quinn turned towards Artemis' cabin, which was lodged in between the Aphrodite and Athena. All the male gods were on one side of the cabin and the females on the other, except for Dionysus, but that was because he originally got his seat as an Olympian from Hestia, who didn't have her own.

Why was that? He never really understood that. If she was important enough to have a throne, Quinn figured if she was important enough to have a cabin, even if it was just honorary.

But then again if the Olympians were up to date with remembering some of the minor gods, maybe they wouldn't be in this situation.

He paused before opening Cabin Eight's door. As far as he knew, no males had ever entered the cabin. Ever. Rumor was, the cabin, the logging, and even the furniture had all been made by women (though he had to take things told to him by the Stoll brothers with a grain of salt). All the honorary cabins were pretty much off-limits, but most male campers gave Cabin Eight an especially wide berth.

What were the odds of him being turned into a jackalope by his mom? Pretty good, considering he hadn't even talked to her since Olympus. For all she knew, she might've thought the whole 'New Lieutenant" situation ruined things between them.

Did he blame her for that?

Quinn sighed. No, it wasn't really her fault. Like she said, Artemis didn't really get relationships. She needed a new lieutenant, and Thalia happened to be there-

Before common sense or his thoughts could catch up to him, Quinn opened the door and quickly stepped inside.

It was... surprisingly normal.

There were two rows of six bunk-beds, each with matching silver and grey blankets and sheets. Some hunter had left a spare bow and quiver set behind one of the beds. Beside each bed was a small wooden drawer. Other than that, the main room was completely blank, except for his bags on one of the beds

Quinn crossed the room, checking out the doors at the back. One was the bathroom. Pretty ordinary as far as bathrooms went, apart from all the nature-themed hair products. He made a mental note to swing by the camp store to pick up shampoo that wouldn't make him smell like a camping trip.

"And behind Door Number Two..."

It was a closet full of junk. Spare quivers, old bows, some hunting knives, and a few spare silver parkas they left behind. Guess they were his now.

In the back of his mind, Quinn wondered what would happen when the hunters came by again. Would they just kick him out like last time? They had a bit of a stronger case last time, seeing as how he had just found out about it. But to be fair to the hunters., 'it'd be an easier job just to kick out one camper than two dozen or so hunters.

"Cross that bridge when we get to it." He closed the door, resolving to also sort it out later.

Quinn sat down on the bunk bed. A home he was at for a few weeks had them. Easier to pack in more guinea pigs for government subsidies. He ended up setting his on fire, so he'd get kicked out of the home.

 _Home._ He hadn't used the word in a long time.

Quinn looked around the cabin. It wasn't much. A bit dusty, kind of empty, and all the silver was bound to give him a headache.

But it was a start.


	5. Important Notice

**Hey guys! You might have noticed I'm not posting a lot lately.**

 **I've come down with a little bit of repetitive strain injury in my hands; basically I've been typing too much and it hurts. I should be fine with a bit of rest, but it means you won't get updates. So consider my stories on hiatus until I recover fully.**

 **Thanks for the understanding guys.**


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